


Morning People

by TheRussianKat



Series: Charthur Modern AU [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: ...that seems like a worthwhile tag, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dutch didn't go crazy, Family, Fluff, Modern AU, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24396979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRussianKat/pseuds/TheRussianKat
Summary: When Arthur first started dating Charles, he never thought the man would turn out not to be a morning person
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith, Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde
Series: Charthur Modern AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761667
Comments: 1
Kudos: 90





	Morning People

Dating Charles was a surreal experience. Arthur had only really dated a handful of people, a few clumsy exchanges as a teenager, the multi-chaptered catastrophe that was Mary and the overly-short endeavor with Eliza. Each dalliance and relationship seemed laden with baggage from the start; if it wasn’t repetitive arguments it was watching as they gradually split apart and not being able to think of any reason to convince them to stick about.

Charles was different. It had been five months since their first ‘official’ date as Arthur called it, the morning after he had been thoroughly stomped on by Mary and her father, Charles had kept his word and they had gone for coffee. Then they had talked. They had talked for hours; right up until Grimshaw had, none too politely, insisted they leave.

Meeting for a coffee in the day or a game of pool in the evening turned into spending the evening together, watching a movie at Charles or on one memorable occasion Arthur trying to cook them dinner. Arthur, Charles discovered, could not cook, at least, he couldn’t cook anything that was immediately recognizable as food. There did seem to be one exception to this rule though, pancakes, Arthur made incredible, world class pancakes. Pancakes so good that Charles almost wished he was a morning person so he could enjoy them more often.

That was something Arthur had discovered; Charles Smith was _not_ a morning person. The soft, stumbling mess he was before 9am was a far cry from the sensible, stoic man the world was used to seeing. Arthur was by no means complaining; on mornings where he had nowhere to be, waking up wrapped in the other man’s embrace was blissful, but when he had somewhere to be it could be problematic. 

This was how Arthur found himself still lying in bed long after he would normally get up, pinned by a very heavy, very cuddly Charles. It was just past 8am and to be fair Arthur didn’t have to be anywhere until 11am but he knew from previous experience that it could easily take half that time to convince Charles to let him out of the bed. He could be _very_ convincing.

Arthur carefully began to shimmy away from the larger man, gently reaching to move the arm that had been slung across his waist during the night. He was making progress; he could almost feel the cool air from outside the blankets. He shifted a little closer to the edge of the bed, ready to swing his legs out and make his escape.

Just as his feet left the confines of the blankets the arm that had been slung over his waist shot from his hand and snaked its way back round his waist, sending a shiver up his spine at the warm touch. He let himself be pulled so his back was flush to Charles chest, “Charles, I nee-“ he started, his voice still rough with sleep.

“No.”

The arm around his waist tightened and he could feel warm breath on the back of his neck as Charles nestled closer.

“Charles, I would love nothin’ more than to stay in bed with you all day b-“

“Good.” The hand was now travelling up his chest, fingers slightly flexed so the short nails were lightly scratching through his chest hair. Arthurs blood seemed to vibrate with the contact. He would not give in… _again_. 

“Dutch’ll have my hide if I’m late again,” he knew his argument was falling on selectively deaf ears as he felt the press of barely there kisses being scattered across his neck. His lackluster argument didn’t even garner a verbal response, just a quiet hum of acknowledgement as he continued his ministrations. The moment Arthur felt Charles sling his leg over his own he knew he was losing the battle. Then, as he tried to pry the leg away and his hand made contact with Charles warm, naked thigh, he had lost. “You play dirty Mister Smith,” Arthur growled before turning in his arms and catching his mouth with his.

* * *

They were still late, but not as massively as Arthur had feared. As the truck trundled up to Beechers Hope Arthur spotted Dutch’s black range-rover parked out front of the barn, the man himself leant against the driver-side door.

Dutch had taken to honest living much better than Arthur had expected, and the five years with no planning, scheming or constantly watching his back had done him the world of good. Years of putting aside funds for the gang had paid off, leaving them all with a sizable nest egg to restart with. He and Hosea had taken their share and finally settled down. Finding a cabin on the lakeside and enjoying the quiet life. Whereas Hosea had taken to fishing and gardening, Dutch had made a vested interest in the members of the gang and their new lives; investing in Bills mechanic shop and Seans bar, helping John start up the ranch he had his heart set on. He had always preached about looking after their family, and now it seemed he was finally following his own advice.

“Oh look who finally decided to make an appearance!” Dutch declared as they pulled up beside him and got out of the beat up, old truck.

“Ah it’s only a few minutes Dutch,” Arthur tried as he slammed his door closed.

Scoffing, Dutch gave him a fond smile, creasing the crow’s feet around his eyes “I had hoped Mister Smith would be a good influence on you, clearly I was mistaken,” he clapped Arthur on the shoulder, took his cane from where he’d leaned it against his car and began to make his way to the farm house.

Just as Arthur opened his mouth to defend himself he was cut off “Even I can’t stop Arthur from oversleeping Dutch,” Charles said as he followed Dutch, he then had the _audacity_ to turn and wink at Arthur, leaving Arthur speechless.

John was already waiting for them on the porch steps as they approached; Jack sat beside him using a stick to draw in the dirt. The six year old spotted them first, face lighting up at the sight of his uncles. Throwing his stick on the ground and running full-pelt at the adults, laughing with delight when Arthur scooped him up and swung him in the air. “You ready to help us take down a barn kid?” Arthur asked as he settled him back on the floor.

“Mama says I’m too little,” Jack pouted, scuffing his shoes in the dirt as if the concept of him being ‘too little’ was ludicrous.

“Aw that don’t sound right,” Arthur consoled the boy “I bet you’re already stronger than your Dad.”

“And you’re definitely smarter than Uncle Arthur,” John added, grinning at the other man.

Dutch rolled his eyes at two men, earning a giggle from Jack “Come on son,” he took Jacks hand “You can show that new story book you were tellin’ me about,” and with that the two disappeared of them into the house.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Charles asked from where he had taken a seat on the porch steps.

“We gotta get that barn down,” John started, gesturing at the rickety old barn on the farside of the property “Lumber for the new one is arriving tomorrow so I don’t want it hangin’ around for some bastard to steal. The sooner it’s done the sooner we can get this ranch running. There’s still some equipment in the old one we might be able to use though so we need to clear it out first.”

“Better get started then,” Arthur said leading the way to the barn “Anythin’ in particular you want savin’?”

“There’s some hay bales at the back we could use,” John replied, pulling a pair of heavy gloves on “and a tool cabinet on the top level we might be able to salvage some things from.”

Upon seeing the inside of the barn Arthur could see why John had asked for the extra pairs of hands. The previous owners must have used it as a dumping ground; there were piles of scrap metal, broken equipment crammed in empty stalls and a scurry of rats when they wrenched the doors open. He threw a look at Charles who was surveying the mess with a look of trepidation which matched Arthurs own thoughts. Then, catching Arthurs eye, the larger man softened his expression into a smile “Better get started.”

* * *

Clearing the barn took longer than any of them expected; each pile they cleared it seemed they found another one hidden behind it. It didn’t help that Dutch decided to take John up to Manzanita Post, leaving just Arthur and Charles to deal with the mess. They had found very little that could actually be salvaged, most of the tools rusted beyond repair and the majority of the hay had rotted through, the pulpy mess giving Arthur a shock when his hand slid through it as he tried to grab the bale, the slimy residue staining his wrists. But they were almost finished, just two of the stalls left to clear out.

Charles had taken the stall filled with hay, Arthur point-blank refusing to put his hands anywhere near the stuff, leaving him with the stall littered with tangles of rope, broken saddles and more than one wheel-less wheelbarrow. It wasn’t the most exciting work but he found himself enjoying just spending time with Charles, only exchanging the odd word and smile. It was simple, simple and-

“Arthur,” Charles voice broke his train of thought. He looked up from where he’d been dragging one of the wheelbarrows but he couldn’t see the other man.

He made his way over to the stall; his curiosity peaking when he spotted Charles knelt on the floor, peering beneath one of the bales. “Err, you okay Charles?”

“There’s something under these bales, I saw it run under there when I moved these,” he gestured to the bales stacked behind him “Can you move that bale at the back, don’t want it getting crushed when I move this,” he pulled himself up from the floor, dusting off his knees before readying his hands on the bale in question.

Nodding, Arthur clambered over the bales and grabbed the one in question, before he lifted it though he turned back to Charles “If there’s a rat under this,” he pointed at Charles, glaring playfully “I’m leavin’ you.”

“Oh I don’t think it was,” Charles started as Arthur gripped the bale again “It was _much_ bigger than a rat.”

Closing his eyes and taking a breath Arthur turned back to the other man, then grinning in more of a grimace than a smile, said “You’re a bastard Mister Smith.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” Charles spoke softly, amusement still tinging his words.

Grumbling to himself, Arthur gripped the bale once more, took a final breath and lifted the bale before throwing it unceremoniously into the stall behind him. Following suit Charles lifted his own bale revealing a small patch of floor with something brown and fluffy in the corner.

Arthur instinctively leaned in, trying to get a better look at the creature. It was a cat. Tightly curled and ears twitching, big green eyes flicking between the two men, then finally settling on Charles as he got closer. The large man held out a hand, leaving it open just in front of the felines face. It took a moment, but slowly the cat stretched forward slightly, sniffing the offered hand before lightly nudging it with its face.

Steadily Charles got closer, gently patting the cat who was slowly uncurling under the attention. It took a few minutes of soothing mumblings and scritches from Charles for the cat to try and pull itself to its feet, wanting to further inspect its new friend. Arthur kept where he was; not wanting to scare the tiny thing away. As it stood though, both men noticed the funny angle of one of its back legs. It tried to step towards Charles but the leg collapsed to the floor, the cat stumbling but seemingly determined to reach him, dragging itself forward with its front paws. “No you don’t,” Charles whispered and quickly sweeping one hand under the cat and lifting it to his chest, adjusting himself to keep the cat securely held.

Now it was immobile Arthur was able to get a better look. Most notably it looked like the cat had been dipped head first in chocolate, its entire face covered in brown fur which gave way to splodges of white, black and brown further down its body. “Well ain’t you a sweet thing,” Arthur smiled softly, speaking gently as he carefully raised his hand and gave it scratch behind the ears, earning a gentle purr in response.

“We better get it to vet, can’t have it running around on that leg,” Charles said, his eyes not leaving the bundle in his arms. Together they left the barn, the cat quickly settling against Charles, rumbling with low purrs.

Arthur let Charles get settled in the truck with their new furry companion, whilst he quickly called John explaining where they’d gone. As he got into the driver’s seat after hanging up he looked back at Charles. The larger man still seemed transfixed on the cat, fingers running rhythmically through its fur. “You thinkin’ of keepin’ it?” he asked, finally distracting the other mans’ attention.

For a second Charles seemed to consider the question before letting a small smile grow on his face and then, looking back at the cat, responded softly “Thinkin’ about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> ...I never knew I needed Charles not being a morning person in my life until I wrote this...
> 
> Thank you for reading! Chapter 2 will be up soon!  
> Let me know what you think and I hope everyone has a fabulous day!  
> (also really sorry if Heartbroken got reposted to the top of AO3 it wasn't intentional, its just I only just found out how to put works in a series and had to edit that one to do it, I really wasnt trying to squiff the algorithm)


End file.
